Follow The Sea
by angelsandroses
Summary: Finnick Odair never gave much thought to his life. His job was entertaining the masses of Capitol women and mentoring the poor kids from his district. So far, nobody except President Snow and Mags knows his secret. But, little by little, everything in his life changes, when a clumsy, kind girl is reaped and slowly, she starts to unravel the things he has been hiding for years. F/A.


**Summary: **Finnick Odair's point of view on Annie's games. He never gave much thought to his life. His job was entertaining the masses of Capitol woman and mentoring the poor kids from his district. So far, nobody except President Snow and Mags knows his secret. But little by little, everything in his life changes, when a clumsy, kind girl is reaped and slowly, she starts to unravel the things he has been hiding for years.

**Chapter One**

Due to being currently laced under the body of a sleeping, pretty Capitol woman, I miss the reaping.

Quickly, I calculate the time left until the train leaves. Not long, but I can make it if I manage to get out of the girl's grip. Her hand, or rather thick, pointy nails, holds my t-shirt with such force that even I can't get her to let go, but I manage to shake her awake after a long while trying. She glances up at me, under disgustingly long blue and pink lashes that make her eyes look much heavier than they are.

"Finnick?" she questions.

I smirk, partly because her eyes are twitching as she tries to look at me square in the eyes and it's funny, and partly because it's a part of my persona that I play in the Capitol. Even though, because of the girl's desperation, I'm not actually there. I'm in Four, in my own bed, with a girl who travelled the distance just to see me. I'm not even sure she's allowed to do that, but I think she might have rich parents that are in association with Snow, because I'm not in trouble. Or, at least, I don't think I am.

I try my best to explain without upsetting the young girl. She nods and climbs up, but only so I can go. She doesn't leave my bed, nor does she make any effort to cover herself up. I just have to throw her something to put on – yesterday's t-shirt that I found in a crumpled mess on the floor – because that much exposure is tiring. Don't get me wrong – it's also kind of inviting. But I'm so used to the heavily tattooed skin that has all different body enhancements and implants in that I can't wait to get away from it.

"Are you leaving now?" she asks. She plays with the sheet on my bed that is, because of last night's activities, extremely messed up, and bats the ridiculous lashes. In an attempt to appear casual, I shrug. She nods again. "I wish you weren't."

"So do I," I say. It's a lie, but she takes it. Scrambling up off my bed, she plants a kiss on my cheek before pulling on a pair of tame, loose pants. She's probably itching to go and get herself properly made up, but she makes no sign of it as she inspects herself in my mirror and dabs at her skin. She's one of the Capitol girls that I actually like. We talked last night for hours, even though all she wanted to talk about was things about her privileged home place that I can't find myself ever interested in. I listened, though, because that, along with the form of prostitution, is my job.

I think she might not care so much about leaving because she knows she'll see me again whenever she pleases. With a wave of the scary nails, she says, "Goodbye," and then shuts my bedroom door behind her. Maybe she's okay with the fact I basically sent her packing because she'll see me again when I return to the Capitol with this year's tributes.

Speaking of that, I really should get going. With a glance in my mirror and a smirk of appreciation (how can I not?), I leave. Mags will be annoyed at me, but she always is lately. The demand has gotten huge since my 18th birthday. See, even some woman in the Capitol have morals, and before that I was 'underage.' Which is laughable, because you're never too young for anything in Panem. We become an adult the moment we're old enough to be reaped.

I make it to the station on time. The train is just about to leave and really, I shouldn't be allowed on. Of course, I charm the Peacemakers guarding the entrance so they open the doors for me. It makes me feel kind of sick – they're probably married with children (or if not, being middle-aged men is bad enough), and they're fascinated by a 19 year old boy. It both sickens me and makes me wonder about how some people work.

When I reach the first compartment, where Mags is deep in conversation with two kids with their backs turned, I'm given a glare from our District escort Alaura. I return it with a hint of sarcasm and she rolls her eyes at me. I try to slip besides Mags, but she holds up her hand without looking at me.

"You're late." She seems to forget that she has two waiting tributes in front of her, staring at her with wide, expecting eyes.

I take this time to take a look at them. The boy doesn't look like a career but he's still tall, so he might pass as one. He must be 18 and he's not crying, so he's strong, I guess. The girl, on the other hand, has tears in her eyes. Her eyes … they're strikingly green with hints of the sea in them. And her hair is longer than anybody's I've ever seen. Long, brown and flowing. She's pretty enough, so there's one route, but she'll be nothing when she's in the Capitol, surrounded by the dolls.

"Were you even listening?"

"What?" I ask, taken out of my momentary distraction. The girl smiles lightly, but I don't know why. I don't have my eye on her, but more the boy who has a much bigger chance on coming home. And that's just on appearance alone.

Mags waves her hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter." She turns back to the tributes, just as Alaura leaves to talk to a peacemaker who I didn't notice was standing at the door. We're left alone when the door shuts behind them. "So," Mags begins. "We have Jonah and Annie." She points accordingly to them both.

And I know which one wants me.

"When does training start?" Jonah asks.

"Easy," I say, raising an eyebrow. Again, Annie smiles. Jonah shoots her a look that I can't interpret, but he turns back to me. Before he can start talking again, Mags interrupts us.

"Behave." She stands up, using my shoulder to help her stand straight as she picks up her cane. When she's steady, she uses a frail finger to point to a large television set that is up in a different room, but that we can still see because of the frosted glass door. "In there. We still have to watch the recap, you know."

"I know," I say, preparing to walk forward. She stops me before I can.

"Wait." She shoots a quick smile to Jonah and Annie, who walk into the other room, and then turns to me. "You" – she jabs her finger into my chest as if I don't know who she's talking to – "aren't having the boy. No questions," she adds when I try to protest.

"Because that makes sense," I mutter, pushing open the sliding glass doors that lead us to the couches, where Jonah and Annie are seemingly avoiding each other, sitting on complete different chairs. Jonah is leaning forward, anticipating the recap, while Annie tucks her legs underneath her and eyes the apples on the table with the same teary, glossy eyes. She wipes her runny nose on her sleeve.

"It doesn't have to make sense to you. You're a kid," Mags says, sitting herself down next to Jonah. That leaves me with Annie, who has stopped looking at the apple and is now looking at ancient, framed pictures on the wall and the delicate way the wall is decorated.

The kids from District One are average. Average for One, I mean. They're monotonously really tall, really athletic and the girl is really pretty. The boy looks more deadly than good looking, but I suppose none of which will matter when he's flinging his preferred weapon at his victims in the arena in just a week's time.

District Two are the same, except a few inches shorter, maybe. The girl isn't as pretty, but she looks just as lethal as the guy from One. The pair from Three aren't anything special so I ignore them. Four comes up, and there's Jonah, who breaks himself away from a pack of careers easily. Maybe I was wrong, maybe he _is_ one. Which just makes it a hold load worse for me. Annie takes a while to get to the stage because she has somebody little clinging to her and sobbing. Annie doesn't cry, though. She just has shiny eyes.

I ignore the rest of the Districts. There is a boy in Twelve who is different from anybody they've ever had before, though, and I focus greatly on him. Quite tall, slim and looking actually prepared. It's odd, but I bet nobody will give him a double take when it comes to picking targets, or when the sponsors start eyeing up who they want.

"What do you think?" Mags blows out air from her cheeks and taps both of her knees. Jonah is still watching the screen, even though the seal is back on and the anthem is playing and there is nothing for him to look at. Annie stares at the apples again.

Jonah speaks with cautious voice. "My brother told me about allies once. I was in training and he told me that it's best to have people to ally with."

I slump down further in my chair because I can't work with him, and he's been trained. Mags rolls her eyes at me, but smiles sweetly at Jonah. "Yes, that's correct." Soon after, almost unnervingly, she adds, "but not always. Sometimes people make it just fine on their own."

I know the last part is directed at Annie because Jonah won't want to pair up with her. So I turn to her, in an attempt to loosen her up. "Do you have any skills?"

She looks up at me from the fruit bowl with an unreadable expression on her face. She waits a minute before saying, "No, not really. I can swim and tie knots just as well as the next person in Four but what use is that?"

I lean back in the chair and sigh. "Honest?"

"Honest."

"It's not."

Mags hits my arm so hard I flinch. But she doesn't say anything and just turns to Jonah, who seems confused at the whole thing. It makes more sense for him to be on my team but Mags is being unusually sour again and I don't want to say anything. Come to think of it, I don't want to say anything in front of Annie, either, who is more interested in fruit than me.

I take an apple, tossing her one as I do so, and correct myself. "Swimming may come in handy. You'll just have to find water first."

She stares at the red apple in her hand before taking a small bite. "My dad used to call me his little fish because I could find water anywhere. Literally, I was always in the water back home. When we were allowed, anyway …" she says with her mouth full and trails off towards the end, shrugging.

I remember that clearly. Something happened in our harvest – when the storms were around – and the peacemakers slapped some big, stupid ban on swimming because we hadn't done as we were supposed to. It sounds even more idiotic repeating it, but they'll find anything to punish us on. And swimming, to us in Four, is something that can't really be taken away from us. It's in our blood. A lot of people lost it during the months we had to go without.

"Right," I say, not pressing on the random subject. I let her finish her apple before continuing. "Still, finding water is best."

"So do we go straight into training?" she asks after a few moments. Jonah even looks up at this, as Mags hobbles to over to the other room, where it looks like the avoxs are setting up our dinner for tonight. Alaura appears, too, but only gives me so much as a tight, fixed nod before shutting the door behind them.

"No," I answer with a bite. "You have your opening ceremonies and then you'll train for the next few days.

"Opening ceremonies?"

Jonah answers for me. "Where we show ourselves off. Get all made up and parade through like animals." He almost grimaces but then he decides to smile. "My brother told me."

"Your brother tells you a lot," I observe.

We have dinner next, which both Jonah and Annie are foreigners to. There are so many artificial foods we're given, with weird colourings. Jonah has the biggest meal of us all, even though he's already got a healthy body. Annie, on the other hand, eats something small that won't make a difference to her petite figure. I try and push her some more, but she refuses politely.

Mags looks up from her meal. "Do you want to be trained privately or together?"

"Together," Jonah says before Annie can. She stays with her mouth hanging open for a little while before silently going back to nibble a slice of fresh bread. "Is that okay?" he asks quietly, looking at Annie.

In fact, we all look at Annie. Alaura and Mags are so surprised that he, obviously being a lot tougher than her, is acting that way. Maybe he knows her from Four and they're good friends, but I have to doubt it, really. Annie doesn't peg me as the kind to be friends with the careers.

"That's fine by me," she replies, going back to her food, not seeing everybody's eyes watching her carefully. Jonah loosens up and goes back to eating his stew, while Alaura and Mags eye each other suspiciously. I hate the fact I'm not included in their little talks, but I suppose it doesn't matter because I already know what they're going to say.

They want to make them allies.

That's why they're talking in such hushed voices, their heads ducked together and their words precise, careful. I only pick up a few and even then I can't work it out. Rolling my eyes, I lean back in my chair and push my bowl away. I haven't even known the kids for half an hour yet, but the idea of putting them together is so clearly not going to work. You can tell that by simply comparing them both.

Little Annie, who is trying to butter a second round of bread for herself with a posh, real silver Capitol knife, is an ant compared to the giant beside her. He may even be taller than me, which I didn't care for before. But it's not like Mags would listen to me if I told her how bizarre the thought was. She is the one who paired Annie and me together and she, apparently, is the one who is going to make the decisions this time.

Then again, maybe it's the idea of balance. Maybe I can teach Annie to fight, while Mags will be able to teach Jonah how to stay alive – starting fires, climbing trees, tying knots. Those sorts of things. I would know that in training you don't really get those things to work with. You just get all kinds of weapons and targets.

I'm interrupted from my thoughts by a tap on my arm. When I open my eyes – come to think of it, I don't even remember closing them, – I'm greeted by Annie and only Annie. She sits so close to me, if I move, she'll fall on the train floorboards. Nervously, I suppose, she tucks some hair behind her ear and smiles at me.

"Mags told me to tell you something about her taking us to the stylists tomorrow. I think she said you might be busy," she says, biting her lip. "I think. I forgot."

"No," I say, "she probably did say that. Thanks."

I expect her to leave, but she just nods and looks around again at the compartment we're in. Suddenly she says, "Are you mad that you're mentoring me? You didn't look very pleased." And then she covers her mouth with her hand and hums something.

"Not mad," I hesitate. "I just wasn't expecting it. I always mentor the boys and Mags always wants to mentor the girls. It's like tradition."

She smiles. "I guess I'm special then."

I slide back in my chair, give my bowl to an avox who is walking past us and give Annie a small, passing nod. "I guess you are then." I go to walk away, but her hand rushes forward to touch my arm. Immediately, she retreats.

"I just wanted to say sorry," she says. "For, you know, not having Jonah and being stuck with me."

"You can't be that bad."

"Well I'm not that good, either," she says. "Jonah's much better than me. He's in my school and everybody is scared of him. I think … I think, though, that he's a real softie."

I have to laugh at that. "Well, that's going to play well in the arena."

She pulls a face. "He won't show it. He just slips under his career persona and shys away from being kind. He's kind of a big jerk. Oh, but don't tell him I said that, will you?"

I don't want to talk to her anymore because I don't think she realises that she's basically just describing me. "Alright," I say. "Well, good night. You should probably get going now. You've got a long day ahead of you tomorrow."

"Okay." She hops up and skips away before I can leave.

I can't sleep. Whether it's because of what Annie said or because I've still got lots of energy. Instead, I end up wandering around the train. We're just pulling into the Capitol at around 8.a.m but I'm the only person who's awake to see it.

Or maybe I'm not.

"Hello?" I call. I swear I heard somebody's shuffling footsteps and nervous breaths. It can't be Mags, because she always sleeps late, especially on the train, when there are nobody to wake us up. I highly doubt Jonah would walk like that – with his heavy, dirty combat boots – and Alaura sleeps like a baby. That only leaves one person.

"Annie?"

She squeals, jumps and almost falls on the floor from her comfortable position on the couch. I walk through the door mutely; the only noise the whizzing of the fast train. It doesn't make a loud enough noise to bother any of us aboard, but when everything's quiet, the moments when you can hear a pin drop, you can hear the faint buzz.

"I won't hurt you." I'm sure my nose scrunches up at the sight of her cowering away from me. She laughs with the same nervous tint in her voice that I realise must be stuck there and bites her thumb nail.

"I know," she says. "I was just frightened that I'd been caught."

I sit down beside her and she doesn't move this time. "Caught doing what?"

"I don't know. Are you even allowed out here now? I feel like I should stick to a schedule." Her eyes are trained on the view from the window. We've just exited a tunnel and the Capitol is full in view. The dark blue river under the bridge that we're passing, the tall buildings, the colourful decorations that are always here when the Games are starting. The _welcome to the Capitol _signs.

"Why wouldn't you be?" I laugh. Wait, maybe Alaura actually does have a schedule. I highly doubt it'll contain our waking hours but still.

"Everything just seems so restricted," she says. "I feel like I'm in prison."

I don't have time to double-check for cameras because the door is already busting open. Annie anxiously jumps again, but it's only Mags, followed by a tired looking Jonah. Everybody seems to have had next to none hours sleep, but Annie weirdly looks wide awake, as alert as ever. She's like a robot. Even the Capitol girls will envy her naturally tan skin, her flowing hair and my favorite, her sea-green eyes that I can't help but notice vividly.

Oh, yes. The girls will definitely envy her, but still, like I said, she won't stand out in the crowd. She'll be nothing, looks wise, next to the girls with their ready available plastic surgery and stylists. Even though always over-the-top, when they're not in the bright outfits, they're beautiful.

"You're up early," Mags says. She eyes me suspiciously and I shake my head. I don't have time. Not on the train, not when I have to think of ways to keep my first ever girl tribute alive. Still, there is the opening ceremony that I'll have to endure first, not that I want to turn into a temporary stylist. But I don't want Annie dressed in scales, the usual waves, or in a net that I find the most annoying thing in the world. "How about you, Annie? Couldn't sleep?" Her mood changes quickly and she smiles at my tribute.

"You could say that," she mumbles. I bet she was dreaming about her sister and, therefore, couldn't get a good night's sleep. I know that; I've been there. Her expression changes and something out the window catches her eyes. "Look at them," she says breathlessly, rushing over to the glass.

Jonah follows her curiously, just as Annie's fingers move softly in a wave. She smiles, too. Which is a first. Usually, people are still crying the day after, but not these kids. They apparently know what they have to do to impress the citizens of the Capitol.

"Well done," I say, just for good measure. "They'll like you for that. It helps with the sponsors later on."

As Mags joins Jonah's side, Annie joins mine. "Sponsors?" she whispers. I nod, smirking out the glass to my fans.

"The more sponsors, the better your, uhm, experience in the games." I frown as a Capitol girl faints at the blowing of a kiss she thinks is directed at her. The others are frantically fanning themselves, while a few catch the kiss, and a few more fall to the ground, passing out also. It's so refreshing that Annie isn't jumping all over me or fawning like a wild fan girl like them. "They'll send you the things you need. How do you think I got my trident?"

"Your what?"

I stare at her blankly. "My trident," I draw out slowly. She gives me a confused look before a smile plays at her lips.

"Kidding," she giggles, and then returns completely, utterly serious. "It just looks like a giant fork to me."

I guess she's right. But, as we arrive in the actual station, I don't want to think about my trident, because all it brings is memories of my many, many kills in my own Games years ago. Not that I can focus on anything else other than the girls (aged from teenagers to woman literally Mags' age) – who are in a huddle at the end of the steps that will lead us off the train.

I can tell that tonight I'm going to be entertaining at least half of those.

**AN: **So here's chapter one. :D I hope you enjoyed!


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